Finding Sleep
by House Frau
Summary: Post Hungry Artist


Finding Sleep  
  
  
  
It could have been the endless ocean in a seashell, or the rush of wind through an empty cave. It wasn't. But it was a lonely sound. He thought he'd gotten use to the sound of loneliness. But he hadn't. All those years, barely a word spoken aloud and he'd thought it a marvelous game. He could read her lips or her hands and it felt like a secret just the two of them shared. Of course it had made the others laugh at him, call him names, turn away, but it never really mattered to him - not then and not now.  
  
Grissom adjusted his sunglasses and stepped out onto the sidewalk. People rushed passed him as if he wasn't even there and the old feeling returned. He studied their faces, he could tell they were happy, he could even hear their laughter, a little muted but he could hear it but none of them noticed him. Grissom moved with them, camouflaged once again, safe in their number. He had no destination in mind and when he found himself outside the Las Vegas Club he went in for a beer. He could still do it, still read lips and did so, ordering and drinking two beers. It was only then when he'd formed the words inside his head that he went in search of his team.  
  
"Is this about the Grossman case?" Warrick asked as he took his place next to Nick. "'cause if it is, I don't have the DNA results yet. Grego is backlogged."  
  
"No, it's not," Grissom said. He waited until they were sitting, sipping coffee and waiting. He wished he could sign it to them, let them read it from his hands so he wouldn't have to say it. Saying it, giving it a sound somehow made it real. "This is," he hesitated, "personal." He had their attention. The raised eyebrows, the sudden stillness. "I called you here to ask a favor really. In the coming months I'm going to need your help and patience." He let that sink in and took some pleasure in Catherine's concerned gaze. The others were confused, but she had always known more about him than anyone. "I'm going deaf."  
  
He might as well been deaf at that moment. Not a word was spoken, a breath drawn. They stared at him, their eyes saying it all for him. But Catherine recovered first, her slim hand covered his, warm and comforting. "Gil? Are you - sure?"  
  
He nodded. It was easier than he'd thought it would be, telling them, accepting it. Forty years since the night before his eighth birthday, the night he'd been so sure he would lose his hearing just as his mother had. He'd dreaded this day and known it would come anyway and now it was over. "Yes, I'm sure. It's hereditary. My mother is deaf and has been all my life."  
  
"Are you-" Sara. She broke off, cheeks flaring before she squared her shoulders and began again, determined as ever. "Are you staying here?"  
  
"Yes. That's why I want your help. I'd like you, Catherine," he turned to her, "to help with the bureaucratic end of things. There'll be phone calls, those sorts of things I need help with. Jim assures me the department will help with equipment but there are a thousand things which will need personal attention."  
  
"Of course, Gil." She gave him that smile, the one which had always been there when he needed it.  
  
"And I'd like you, Nick, to stay with me on crime scenes."  
  
Stokes looked startled but said, "sure. I will. Whatever you need."  
  
Gil nodded. "You're very good with people, Nick," he said, "almost as good as Catherine is. I usually rely on her to read people, tell me what I'm missing. I'll need that more than ever now. I want you to listen for the truth, Nick. I won't be able to hear it, but you will." He paused then added, "and don't let me get run over by a truck or anything." Everyone laughed and the tension in the room faded.  
  
"You can count on me, boss," Nick said.  
  
"I will." He dismissed them. Answering their questions as best he could with his limited answers. They hadn't laughed and they hadn't turned away. Maybe times had changed or maybe he had. He picked up his briefcase, catching sight of his own reflection in a display case glass. He signed a rapid sentence and turned to leave.  
  
"What did you say?" Catherine asked. The others stood behind her.  
  
He glanced away before meeting her eyes, "I said 'It's not a game, it's your life now'." They all walked with him to his Tahoe and stood beside it as he climbed in. Cassie had told him the next thing he found might be the one thing he really needed. He looked from face to face into eyes filled with genuine concern and affection and understood that he might have thought he had secrets but they, too, had had him.  
  
"Where're you going?" Sarah asked.  
  
Morning sunlight streamed through the trees and a breeze rustled their leaves and he realized that though the sound was muted it no longer seemed lonely. "To sleep," he said and smiled.  
  
  
  
gena 


End file.
